On Mango Street, I dream of flight. My house will glow with op

On Mango Street, I dream of flight. My house will glow with open light. No one will say, “You can’t be free.” I will bring all my words with me. But I will never lose my past. Behind the door, I hide my face. At night, I pray to leave this place. My eyes pretend I feel no pain. The street repeats my silent name. Freedom feels like a breath at last. ⸻ We are the ones who laugh, then cry. Our mothers teach us not to try. The windows watch but never speak. The sky turns quiet, cold, and weak. One day, this street will set us free.